Fingerprints
by awkwardsuzie
Summary: Life is unpredictably. Things happen, their unpredictably, scary and unfair. This is the story of two teenagers who let one another in Sorry for crap review
1. Chapter 1

''Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take but by the number that take your breath away''

As I look out on the sun rising ,it symbolises a lot of things to me about the life I have lived. It shows me that there is always hope, even in the darkest hour of night, when you are alone and scared to move, there is always a new start, a second chance. Well, mine came in the form of a 5ft ten, brown eyed brunette, that couldn't walk across a flat surface without managing to end up on her ass. She walked into my life and saved me, and I am eternally grateful to her. Am I rambling? I think I am rambling. Our story begins when I was a very different person. Some say it was a phase, others hormones but to me I was drowning. It's funny how in life we have a ll these moments some are huge, they effect the path we chose, others as simple as deciding what sandwich you want or spending time with family. But, up until she came into my life moments did not matter. I will always remember each waking moment with her. Anyway, I am not always this sentimental; I just feel that our story should be told. Warning, I do some jerkass things and I am a bit of a dumbass at times, so just bear with me but, it wouldn't have got me where I am today. Anyway, on we go.


	2. Chapter 2: Change is inevitable

''The key to change is to let go of fear''-Rosanne Cash

BPOV

Change... it's something every human fears, whether it's new clothes, a new job, a new house, it's scary, unpredictable and it can affect everything. But after a while, we adapt, we survive, we keep on living. Well, so they say anyway. My name is Isabella Marie Swan and I for one can say we have to survive change. When I was seven years old, change happened to me. My parents who adored each other, were out celebrating their eight wedding anniversary. It was a cold, wet, rainy night. It was the annual Arizona monsoon. My Dad, a policeman, always drove so safely. They were just after seeing Swan Lake. My mother, Renee loved Swan Lake. I think it was the whole desperate, needy love thing the woman or swan had for the prince. They got into Dad's old Chevy and were driving home. Just a few minutes into the drive, a car was coming along the road, the opposite way. A dog ran in front of the other car, the car swerved to avoid the dog and skidded because the road was so wet. My Dad, trying to avoid the car, swerved the other way but turned the car upside down and it flew of the road. It rolled down a hill, filled with trees, bushes, whatever. In that split second, my Dad's future, my mother's future and my future changed. I remember being woken up by Mrs. Robinson, the old woman next door . I can't remember her driving or going into the hospital. I can only remember being told that my mother had died by a man in a white coat, the person who unknowingly, changed my life. The next thing I remember is being in my Dad's room, screaming and crying and the look on my Dad's face. It was a look that frightened me, my Dad who always looked like he had all the happiness in the world, but there just looked defeated, hurt and guilty. That night changed my Dad. Eleven years later, that look I am used to, he has it everyday now. It's like when my Mom died, our lives stopped, she was our rock, my Dad stopped living.

It has been eleven years since I have seen my mother, talked to her, went shopping with her, walked with her or just lived. Today, I am starting a new school, Forks local high school. My Dad and I left Phoenix and decided to move back to my Mum's old hometown, where she is buried. Phoenix was too familiar for my Dad. Everyday, he saw the church where they were married, the bar where they first met, the hospital where I was born and of course the part of the road where my Mom's life had ended. These places haunted, my Dad these endless, empty memories and he couldn't cope with it anymore. For me, it felt that my Mom was near, surrounding and protecting me. But, Charlie, my Dad hasn't been doing too well, so I complied to move and that is how I ended up in the little town of Forks, where nothing was familiar.

I woke from my slumber from my nightly nightmare, covered in sweat and the blankets twisted around me. Every night is the same, the empty, dark road where I can't move until the darkness swallows me whole. I hate it, it's like I am suffocating, drowning and none can save me.

I glanced at my alarm clock, it was 6.00. ''Okay, well here we go'' I said to myself. I got up from my bed and walked across the hall to the bathroom. I didn't mind not having a bathroom in my own room, I was the only one who ever came upstairs anyway. I took of my shorts and tank top and started running the water. I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't gorgeous or elegant or any of those things. I was just... me. Clumsy and brown. I shook my head, I was just one of those people that melted into the background in life and did what they were supposed to do. I didn't have any talents, I was just plain, ordinary. I got into my shower and I immediately felt refreshed. After, finishing my shower, I wrapped my towel around myself and went back into my room. I went over to my wardrobe, which I'll tell you now was pretty limited. I decided on a black parka, fleece, blue jeans, a blue denim shirt and a ratty old pair of converse . Nice, yet easily blend in, which is all I asked of today. I left my hair down in waves, deciding it would mean people would not be able to notice me as 'the new girl' as quickly. I put on my bracelet which belonged to my mother. It was nothing special, just a few beaded bracelets together, but she wore it all the time. We didn't have any photographs around the place because my Dad didn't like seeing her face, he blames himself for her death. He just can't bear to think of what he did. I walked down stairs and into my Dad's room. It was getting worse. I thought maybe the move would help him, maybe he would stop but he didn't. Every night, My Dad gets himself so drunk that he passes out, unable to remember anything. My Dad is in a wheelchair as a result of the accident,his spinal cord was severed, which left his legs paralysed. After that, he started drinking. He used to do it when I was in bed when I was younger but now he does it all day long. He never has been violent or anything, he just sits and stares. I walked over to his bed and noticed he drank 10 cans of beer and had started on some Jack Daniel. The smell burned my nose and I know he had vomited during the night.

I walked over the cans and tried to nudge him. ''Dad..come on.. come on''. He opened up his eyes and I saw that same broken look I see everyday. I sighed. If only I could make it better?

''Dad come on you have got to eat something. Come on I'll make you some nice French toast''

''I don't want anything, just go to school.'' He closed his eyes again. ''Look dad I know it's hard, but please just eat something, for me. You'll feel better''

''NO,NO,NO I don't want anything from you or nobody, just leave me ALONE!!!''

I gave up as I did every morning. I walked out into the kitchen and grabbed myself a granola bar and made some coffee. I wasn't hungry. I decided to make some toast for Dad and coffee. I walked back into the room and placed the coffee and toast on the nightstand. I went around and picked up the cans and placed them in the trash can. I looked at my watch and it was nearly 8.00. I didn't have time to clean up the vomit, but left a note for , the home help to do so. ''Bella'', I heard Dad calling, in a croaky voice. I went back into his bedroom.

''Bella, I am sorry ... ab...about before. I didn't mean to shout.''

''It's okay..I understand. Hey, I have to go, so i'll see ya later''

''Goodluck today, kid''

''Thanks Dad''

The only ever sober conversations we had was in the morning. When I came home for school, he was passed out on the sofa. I then would help him go to bed at 7 and make him dinner. He ate very little and now resembled a skeleton. He then would snuggle up the rest in the night in bed with cans and a bottle of Jack Daniel as company. I tried to get him help but he refused. He says nothing could make him better. We get by on food stamps and allowances, for necessities. Dad usually spends his police retirement money on the alcohol. is the person who gets it for him, well as I can't but if she didn't he find another way, maybe he would even go himself. I know it's probably worse to keep buying alcohol, but he would find a way to get it. But for now it keep him numb. I just tend to ignore it and try having patience with him. I hope one day, he will get better but I know it's a fairly small chance, but all I have left is hope.

I got into the old Chevy, it was not the same one my Dad used to have but we got it on the insurance. I tried to start the truck three times before success. I then proceeded my way to Forks High School.

On my way, I couldn't stop thinking that change was inevitable. It's something that happens to us whether we like it or not. It alters a person's life, it chooses your path and your fate. When change comes, are only choice is to survive, hold out and live through it. Because the only thing we have when change comes is hope.


End file.
